


(Getting) Physical (in) Geology

by alittlepieceofgundamwing_archivist



Series: Getting Physical [1]
Category: Gundam Wing
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Humor, Lime, M/M, Matchmaking, Shounen-ai
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-13
Updated: 2013-04-13
Packaged: 2019-04-22 12:15:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 8,001
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14308425
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alittlepieceofgundamwing_archivist/pseuds/alittlepieceofgundamwing_archivist
Summary: by Zillie--Quatre frantically tried to remember how to breathe. It couldn't be that hard -- he'd been doing it since he was a baby. How did it go -- gasp, hack, wiggle your nose? All he could think of was how soft a brown waterfall would feel as it followed a sweet mouth down his torso. . . how a low voice would sound when rich with emotion. . . what it would be like to be surrounded in green, seduced by green, buried in green after being drowned in green. . . drowned. . . .





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Dacia, the archivist: this work was originally archived at [A Little Piece of Gundam Wing](https://fanlore.org/wiki/A_Little_Piece_Of_Gundam_Wing), which closed in 2017. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project after July 2017. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [a little piece of gundam wing collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/alittlepieceofgundamwing/profile).

"And we're out of here!" Duo hissed. "9:50. Having done our time, we may now break free of this scientific prison. We are cleansed of our sins _\--_ let's make the move from purgatory to _\--_ well, to Japanese. Not quite heaven, but it's better than here." He motioned around the room where they were fulfilling their lab science requirement with an intro to geology course.  
  
Quatre ignored him, hastily jotting down a few last words as the teacher released them. Duo, already packed and ready to go, waited for his roommate.  
  
"Just a second," Quatre promised, hastily trying to organize his notes.  
  
"No worries," Duo said cheerfully. "I've got twenty-five minutes until my Japanese class."  
  
"Yeah, but didn't you tell me that the TA's anal about people being on time?" Quatre asked, shoving his notebook into his bag and standing.  
  
"Yes, well, he has quite a stick up his ass," Duo sighed. "Which I'd be okay with _\--_ if it were my stick up his ass. If you know what I mean."  
  
Quatre rolled his eyes. "No. The incredible subtly of that comment caused it to go right over my head."  
  
Duo smirked. "Well, you _are_ blond." He took a closer look at his roommate in the dim room. "And you're blushing."  
  
Quatre ducked his head, way too late.  
  
Duo hooted. "That's what I love about you, Quatre. You're what, student body president, quarterback of the football team, head, uh," he waved his arm about randomly.  
  
"It's called fencing. I'm head of the fencing club."  
  
"And you admit it. How cute. All that and more, and you still blush like a virgin. I wonder why _\--_ oh, right. Because you are a virgin." He smirked again.  
  
Quatre growled and wrapped his scarf around his neck. "Let's get out of here."  
  
Duo grinned and headed for the door.  
  
"Ah, Quatre. May I talk to you for a second?"  
  
That voice. . . he knew that voice. His heart caught with his breath. "Uh," he said, turning.  
  
"Trowa," Duo said, eyeing the papers in the geology TA's hand. "Uh. I'll see you guys later. Bye, Quatre, Trowa."  
  
And Quatre was alone with him.  
  
Quatre frantically tried to remember how to breathe. It couldn't be that hard _\--_ he'd been doing it since he was a baby. How did it go _\--_ gasp, hack, wiggle your nose? All he could think of was how soft a brown waterfall would feel as it followed a sweet mouth down his torso. . . how a low voice would sound when rich with emotion. . . what it would be like to be surrounded in green, seduced by green, buried in green after being drowned in green. . . drowned. . . .  
  
He took a raspy breath. In, out. That was the trick.  
  
Trowa had paused, and those green eyes ran over him  <ah, gods>, almost friendly. "You okay? Yeah? Well, then, as I was saying, your answers to the daily questions have contained some. . . interesting turns of phrase."  
  
Quatre blinked. The paragraphs on geology questions that he'd turned in at the beginning of each class had been dutiful and thorough _\--_ but interesting?  
  
"Very interesting," Trowa confirmed. "But I'm not sure that you've quite got everything down. I thought maybe we could arrange a time to go over it. Maybe Thursday afternoon after lab?"  
  
"Uh, okay," Quatre said, not really listening.  
  
"Great," Trowa said, his lips almost almost almost curving, pleasure almost almost almost sounding in that faintly accented voice of his.  
  
"But Trowa," Quatre said, confused. "What precisely was the problem?"  
  
Trowa looked down. "You seem to have mixed up a few phrases and ideas. For example, in the one where you wrote about earthquakes, well, they're actually called subduction zones."  
  
That sounded right to Quatre; he nodded. "And I didn't say that?"  
  
"Actually. . . you wrote about, well, seduction zones. And let's see. . . as for plate tectonics, when one plate goes beneath the other, nothing slips into a, let me quote, tight round hole. The really hard rocks you wrote about? The big, long ones that are so hard, uh, well, that are very hard? They aren't smooth as velvet. . . they aren't that shape. . . and the term is extrusive. . . not erective."  
  
Quatre's eyes were round and horrified. "Uh," he said. All he could think of was the beginning of class, when Duo had, kindly, as usual, taken his paper up and turned it in for him.  
  
Like always.  
  
"Quatre _\--_ "  
  
"Gack," Quatre said, and ran out.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> by Zillie

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note from Dacia, the archivist: this work was originally archived at [A Little Piece of Gundam Wing](https://fanlore.org/wiki/A_Little_Piece_Of_Gundam_Wing), which closed in 2017. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project after July 2017. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [a little piece of gundam wing collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/alittlepieceofgundamwing/profile).

"I just don't know what to do," Quatre confessed miserably to the three students from his business class that he'd been supposed to meet for their tutorial. The teacher had been unable to attend that day, but the four of them had planned to work anyway. The plan had been scrapped the moment that Midori, who he had known since he was three, had caught a glimpse of his face. The girl was a cousin of one of his half-sisters, and she knew him too well.  
  
"What's wrong?" she asked without preamble. Hilde Sheibecker, the third member of the group, had seconded the question. The final member of the quartet, a tight-assed Chinese- American by the name of Chang Wufei _\--_ and don't try switching the name order there, bub, unless you want a firsthand view of your bowels _\--_ had merely snorted and sipped his latte. Which, if you knew Wufei, indicated great worry. So Quatre had spilled the story.  
  
Hilde, who knew Duo the way that Midori knew Quatre, scowled. "Duo's an ass. Always has been, always will be. Just because he's my best friend in the world doesn't mean I don't know that. An ass, I tell you." A smile flirted across the edges of her mouth. "A fine ass, but an ass nonetheless."  
  
"Trowa also has a fine, um, rear," Midori said. "I think you should go for it, Quatre."  
  
"He said something about getting together after lab today," Quatre revealed miserably. "He's probably thinking that I'm either going to rape him or let him, you know. . . ."  
  
"Rape you?" Hilde asked, waggling her eyebrows.  
  
"No!" Quatre said, nearly shouting. He sighed and took hold of himself. "Trowa would never do that. You can see it in his eyes."  
  
"Eye," Wufei corrected.  
  
Quatre ignored him. "He's at heart a gentle person."  
  
"He's also a very good acrobat," Midori said. "He grew up in an Eastern European circus, and was part of it until they got trapped in Bosnia at the wrong time."  
  
"Poor Trowa," Quatre breathed.  
  
Midori smiled, a bit smugly. "All that's his business; I'll let him tell you the rest. I will tell you this, though; I have seen the man scratch his ears with his toes."  
  
"So he's got less than charming personal habits," Wufei said, blankly.  
  
"And more than exotic sexual ones," Midori said, and smiled. Quatre and Wufei both scrambled for napkins to staunch their nosebleeds.  
  
"So," Midori said. "You trust Trowa not to attack you, not to make any sorts of sexual demands, not to offer grades in return for fellatio."  
  
"Did you just actually use the word fellatio?" Hilde asked curiously.  
  
"Yes," Midori told her, "I did."  
  
Hilde nodded and sat back. "Just checking."  
  
"Basically, I think you should go this afternoon. If it works, it works. . . . if it doesn't, well, you've lost nothing."  
  
"That's easy for you to say," Quatre grumbled.  
  
Midori arched one perfect eyebrow; it, like the rest of her hair, was a shade so dark that only when she was standing in direct light did you realize it was a deep, dark green that she swore up and down was natural. "Let's put it this way: you're going. I double dog dare you. With a cherry on top." Her smile was smug; she knew she'd won.  
  
"Someday someone's going to pop you. That or give you a virus, and we'll find out that you've been a computer construct all along," Quatre grumbled.  
  
"I love you, too. . . ototo-san."  
  
"How'd you know all that shit about Trowa anyway?" Hilde asked, curiously.  
  
Midori smirked. "I have my sources. Now let's get to the good part."  
  
Wufei shut the text he'd been dutifully reading. "Do you mean what I think you mean, `Dori?"  
  
Her smile was positively wicked; slowly, everyone else's face began to resemble hers. "As a matter of fact, it is. Here comes the good part, boys and girls."  
  
"Revenge," Quatre breathed.  
  
"On Duo," Hilde whimpered.  
  
"Hallelujah, Amen, and thank you, Buddha," Wufei finished.  
  
Midori leaned in to outline the plan.  
  
+  
  
He never could remember what happened in lab that day. Whenever he tried to remember, he pulled up vague images of rocks and things like that. . . but all he could remember was the way his breath got shallow and his heart sped up every time he noticed how nice Trowa looked in that dark green sweater. . . . which basically meant that he spent the entire class on the verge of passing out. He was grateful that Duo was in another lab section; if his roommate had been there, the entire three hour session would have been full of suggestive remarks. He had a hard enough time dealing with the barely perceptible worry of his friend Ran Fujimaya from the fencing club. Between that and the always hyperactive behavior of the other member of their lab group, Miaka Yuuki, Quatre really wasn't sure how they managed to get through the lab.  
  
But they did.  
  
Miaka dashed off to meet her boyfriend, Ran to take his sister Aya (who lived nearby) to the doctor, and Quatre was alone. With Trowa.  
  
He stood, feeling completely awkward, as Trowa wrapped things up with the stragglers and said goodbye to the other TA, Utena Tenjou. The pink haired girl laughed at something and dashed out the door.  
  
Trowa turned to Quatre. "You ready?" he asked.  
  
Quatre could barely hear him. "It wasn't me," he said. Trowa blinked. Well, Quatre qualified to himself, it could have been a wink, but. . . he shook his head. "It must have been a prank. I don't know who _\--_ "  
  
"I do," Trowa said. He grabbed his bag and the two began walking. "After the first one, which was something of a surprise, I started to watch people turn the questions every morning. Duo's very talented with sleight of hand."  
  
Quatre bit down on the inside of his cheek. "I'm sure it was just some stranger," he began to insist.  
  
"I'm not going to get him in trouble," Trowa said. "Though he did violate the honor code. I figure, you're the class officer, you're the one who got tampered with."  
  
"He's my best friend," Quatre said.  
  
"Some people told me it was more than that," Trowa said. There was even less expression in his voice than usual; his eye stared straight ahead at the path.  
  
Quatre snorted. "Me and Duo? Uh, no. I mean, we did go out. Twice. The first time we forgot we were on a date and just had fun _\--_ but in a totally nonromantic way. We decided to try it again, and realized it just wasn't going to work. We've been just about each other's best friend ever since."  
  
"Oh," said Trowa.  
  
They walked in silence for a minute or so.  
  
Trowa stopped dead.  
  
Quatre nearly tripped over him. "Is something wrong?" he asked.  
  
The taller boy turned to face him. His eye fixed on Quatre's face; the blond had a sudden dizzy thought that he could feel the world moving beneath his feet, the universe revolving around his heart.  
  
"Quatre."  
  
The name fell like cherry blossoms onto spring grass; everything inside him felt like it was about to burst into bloom.  
  
"Trowa," he whispered, unable to look away.  
  
"Uh, where are we going? Student center, coffee shop, what?"  
  
Quatre rose on his toes and leaned forward. "Heaven," he whispered, and kissed the boy.  
  
"But then Ginta showed up with that girl from another school!"  
  
"You're kidding! What did Miki do?"  
  
Quatre pulled back, shocked. What was he doing? Just leaning over and kissing Trowa in the middle of the road. . . where anyone could see them. . . and if those two gossipy girls just rounding the corner hadn't been so loud, anyone would have. "Uh," he said. "I _\--_ "  
  
"Don't apologize," Trowa said quickly. "I, uh. Don't mind."  
  
Quatre nodded, faster and faster. "Yeah. I. Um. Have to go. . . . check my mail."  
  
Trowa looked _\--_ well, impassive, but he could have been bemused. "What about studying?"  
  
"Um. Later," Quatre said. He backed away faster.  
  
"Quatre?"  
  
He froze.  
  
"Would you like to go out for coffee tonight?"  
  
Going out for coffee. Traditional prelude to dating at Gundam W, especially for the large homosexual population. Going out for coffee with Trowa. Just Trowa. In public. As good as declaring. . . . .   
  
"You know," Quatre said, "I make really good coffee. Why don't I bring some over to your room tonight?"  
  
Trowa hesitated, then nodded. "Uh, okay."  
  
"I'll see you then," Quatre said, and fled.


	3. Chapter 3

Quatre was waiting when Duo got back.  
  
The braided boy looked surprised to see him.  
  
"Hi," Quatre said. "How was class?"  
  
Duo warily removed his shoes and set his backpack down. "Good."  
  
"Your religion class, right?" Quatre grinned sunnily and crossed his legs, swinging them back and forth a bit. He was perched in a chair. A desk chair. Duo's desk chair.  
  
And Duo's laptop sat open and glowing before him.  
  
"You like the professor, don't you?" Quatre pushed.  
  
Violet eyes narrowed, and stayed fixed to that angelic face as Duo moved cautiously about the room, careful to keep his back to the wall. "Yeah. Professor Wolfwood has an... interesting take on religion. We get along well."  
  
"He's your minor adviser, isn't he?" Quatre said, absolutely beaming.  
  
"We get along well," Duo repeated, his voice a little strained.  
  
"I'm so glad," Quatre said. He cocked his head to the side and turned his smile up a few watts.  
  
Duo's eyes flicked towards the door longingly, but he squared his shoulders and stood his ground. "Uh," he said, careful to stand as far away from his roommate as possible. "I thought that you... were going to... geology... ."  
  
Quatre batted his lashes _\--_ just twice. Any more would be overkill. "Oh, Trowa and I worked things out quickly. And I'm so glad, because I had time to come back here and clean up a mess before you got back!"  
  
Duo's eyes narrowed; obviously deciding that he wasn't in mortal danger, he inched closer. Quatre hid a smile _\--_ the boy was very protective of his computer.  
  
It was a weakness.  
  
"A mess?" Duo echoed.  
  
"Uh-huh," Quatre said cheerfully. "I seem to have left some of my files on your computer, oddly enough! Like this one _\--_ has my name right there. It's a paragraph on earthquakes... let's see. Pressure begins to build up because of two hard, solid, long pieces of rock rubbing back and forth against each other... one early effect is that animal behavior becomes apparent, and everyone goes wild. Fluid begins to build up under the surface... it erupts out of the epicenter, and the world moves... one primary shudder followed by smaller secondary ones... . the pressure spills out away from the focus in love waves." He turned to smile sweetly at Duo again. The braided boy's eyes were on his computer; he inched forward. "Funny. I never realized that my writing style was so, well," he shrugged, smiled, and tacked his roommate. They both went sprawling to the floor.  
  
"Ugh," Duo groaned.  
  
Quatre's smile was just a touch more feral; his tone was still pleasant and reasonable. "What the fuck did you think you were doing?" he asked, pulling himself up to straddle his prone roommate.  
  
"Oh," Duo moaned. "Jesus, Q-man."  
  
"For God's sake, Duo," Quatre snapped, all niceness gone. "You were raised in a fucking monastery! Don't you know anything about honesty? Respect?"  
  
"It wasn't a monastery," Duo muttered, rubbing his head. "Do you know how hard this floor is?"  
  
"No," Quatre said, "but it can't be half as hard as I am angry."  
  
Duo met his eyes.  
  
"God!" Quatre said, and got up. He slammed his fist into the post of their bunk beds.  
  
Duo painfully sat up, leaning against the lower bunk. "I just... ." He shrugged. "Wanted you to be happy."  
  
Quatre smirked mockingly. "Well, then. I'm sure that you'll be happy to know that I'm going over to Trowa's tonight. Don't wait up." His smirk intensified as he leaned over and tapped three buttons on Duo's computer. "See you later," he said.  
  
Duo's eyes widened and he struggled to his feet as his roommate slammed the door behind me. "Quatre, what the hell?" He ran over to the laptop. "Oh, Jesus, no!"  
  
+  
  
"Gundam University tech support. Uh-huh. Uh-huh. You want to know how to stop the pink elephants that are dancing across your screen. Uh-huh. I see. Hold please."  
  
"Gundam University psychiatric ward. How may I help you today?"  
  
+  
  
Duo stared miserably into his coffee. "It's not just the pink elephants. It's not just that they're wearing tutus. I could deal with that. But why, Hilde, why did he have to make them have long braids and hold scythes?"  
  
Hilde smirked. "I personally admire his restraint."  
  
Duo fell back in his chair. The friends sat in the small coffeehouse across the street from the college, and the chairs were much more comfortable than anything that could be found on campus. "I've been stabbed in the back, Hilde. By my best friend _\--_ you've been like a brother to me!"  
  
Hilde just sipped her coffee. "With all that hair, you should hardly notice a few knife wounds."  
  
He raised an eyebrow and was about to say something when Hilde focused on someone across the room. "Hi, Relena!"  
  
The blond girl waved and smiled before turning back to the boy she was with. His cobalt eyes flickered over Hilde and Duo before resuming their scan of the chalkboard menu.  
  
"Which reminds me," Hilde said. "Relena invited me to visit her over spring break. So I don't need a ride."  
  
"Shinigami and I will endeavor to make the trip without you," Duo muttered, still sore.  
  
"Actually... we're going to Relena's house in Conneticut. Which is on your way home. So I figured we could sort of caravan that far, and you and, uh, your car _\--_ "  
  
"Shinigami."  
  
"The black Beetle of Death."  
  
"It would only be ridiculous if he was one of the new Beetles. But he's vintage, so it's all good."  
  
"I probably shouldn't mention that Quatre mentioned something about a trip to the craft store to pick up pink paint and elephant stencils."  
  
Duo slammed his cup down. "You're kidding." He stood and ran from the shop.  
  
Nobody noticed the intense blue eyes that followed him until he was long gone from vision.  
  
"Yes," Hilde said with a smile, "I am."  
  
+  
  
"I wasn't sure what you liked in your coffee," Quatre said. Trowa shrugged. "I've found that American coffee is so bad that it makes no difference."  
  
Quatre handed him a cup. "Just try it."  
  
The boy took a dubious sip. And gasped. "I haven't had coffee like this since... . since I moved to America."  
  
"Told you I made good coffee," Quatre smiled.  
  
Trowa shyly smiled back.  
  
Silence fell.  
  
"Uh, do you want to go over geology?" Trowa asked awkwardly.  
  
"I know it," Quatre said. "And I printed out new copies of all the right answers, so here. I'm sorry about this whole thing. Duo's something of an idiot."  
  
"I didn't mind," Trowa said, looking at the papers he held. "I mean, I did mind. I mean, I minded that it was Duo. That it was a joke. I was sort of disappointed when I figured out that it wasn't you. That you had nothing to do with it." He gave a self deprecating laugh. "I'm sorry _\--_ I never know what to say."  
  
"You do fine when you lecture," Quatre said.  
  
"I can tell you all about rocks, that's true," Trowa acknowledged. "But the semester is almost half over and I haven't been able to tell you anything else."  
  
Quatre looked at him.  
  
"I've been trying to ask you out all semester," Trowa said. "I, uh, I like you." He shoved the papers down on his desk. "And now I don't know what else to say."  
  
"I don't either," Quatre said. He walked closer. "So don't say anything."  
  
+  
  
"You taste like summer," Trowa murmured a while later. They were on his bed, still fully clothed, surrounded only by the christmas lights that hung from the wall. They had been elaborately arranged in the shape of a lion. Quatre ran his fingers through Trowa's mane.  
  
"You taste like a jungle," he said. "Exotic and beautiful and probably deadly." He nipped at Trowa's neck and began to unbutton the other boy's shirt.  
  
"You're the summer sun," Trowa mumbled between gasps. "Bright and beautiful and the source of all life... and I think that you could burn me much more easily than I could devour you."  
  
"I think I'd like to be devoured," Quatre said mischievously. It was another hour before Trowa answered the now sleeping boy.  
  
"But I don't want to be burned."  
  
+  
  
"Do you want to meet me for lunch?"  
  
Quatre paused. "I, um..."  
  
Trowa sat up, the emerald sheets falling away from his exquisite body. "I haven't had much experience with this, Quatre. Are we... together now? I want us to be." He shook his head. "I've never said anything like that to anyone before... I've never done anything like this before... but there's never been anyone like you before."  
  
Quatre fastened the buttons on his shirt.  
  
"So just tell me. Are we together?"  
  
He met the green eye in the mirror, and thrilled to the way Trowa's tousled hair looked of a morning. "I would say so."  
  
Trowa let out a breath neither had known he was holding. "Well, if lunch is bad, do you want to meet me for dinner? Either your dining hall or mine would be fine."  
  
Quatre thought. "Why don't I come over this evening and bring takeout or something? I'm a little mad at Duo and I'm looking for a place to sleep anyway."  
  
"Okay," Trowa said slowly. "That would be fine. And then maybe we could go see a movie?"  
  
"There's nothing good out," Quatre said, a little too fast. "I can, um, rent something. I'll bring my tv over."  
  
Trowa stood up, his long body naked in the morning light. "What is this?"  
  
"I don't know what you mean," Quatre said, ripping Trowa's brush through blond hair that smelled of Trowa's shampoo. "And I've got an early class. I should be going."  
  
"Am I like your secret lover or something?"  
  
"Don't be ridiculous," Quatre snapped. "That's ludicrous. Of course not. No." He grabbed for his bag. "I have to go. I'll see you later."


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> by Zillie

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note from Dacia, the archivist: this work was originally archived at [A Little Piece of Gundam Wing](https://fanlore.org/wiki/A_Little_Piece_Of_Gundam_Wing), which closed in 2017. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project after July 2017. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [a little piece of gundam wing collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/alittlepieceofgundamwing/profile).

"So you slept with him?"  
  
Quatre shrugged. "We didn't actually, well, you know. But we, um," he shrugged.  
  
"Fooled around?" Midori asked.  
  
"That makes us sound like two teenagers groping each other in the dark," he objected.  
  
"Which is inaccurate how?"  
  
"It wasn't like that, Dor," he said. "It wasn't like that at all."  
  
"So am I off the hook as your date to the SGA dance this weekend?" she asked.  
  
Quatre hissed. "I totally forgot about that." He eyed her. "I couldn't drop you like that at this point."  
  
"Yes, you could," she said.  
  
"No, no, I don't think that Trowa would want to," he said.  
  
"I think he would."  
  
"But you bought a new dress."  
  
"Nope. Borrowed it from your sister Octavia. The green one."  
  
"Midori."  
  
"Hmm?"  
  
"I just don't think that we're ready."  
  
+  
  
"So I was thinking maybe we could go out somewhere this weekend," Trowa said. "My friend Milly Thompson is in that play on Friday. I promised I'd go see it. Would you come?"  
  
"I, uh," Quatre said.  
  
"You can think about it," Trowa said. He leaned back against the edge of his bed and lifted his book once again.  
  
Quatre, sitting at the other boy's desk, couldn't force himself to go back to his econ homework. "Trowa... . ?"  
  
His face lifted; the expression in his eyes was inscrutable. Quatre's throat tightened, and his vocal cords froze.  
  
The phone rang.  
  
Ten minutes later, Trowa hung up. "My sister, Catherine," he explained. "She travels with the circus."  
  
Quatre smiled, noticing that after ten minutes of speaking in some language _\--_ all Quatre could say for certain was that it hadn't been Arabic (the language his father still regularly cursed in) or (he winced) Japanese (the language that Duo studied. And worshipped. And muttered in his sleep. Quatre really wasn't sure which was worse _\--_ the fact that Duo frequently muttered phrases like "Watashi wa gakusei desu" and "Fuyu wa samui" in his sleep, or the fact that Quatre knew what he meant _\--_ yes, Duo was a student, and yes, winter was frequently cold) _\--_ Trowa's accent had thickened. He found it... well, rather sexy. "Catherine," he repeated. "Is she your only sister?"  
  
Trowa nodded, sitting down with a panther like grace. "She is all the family I have. Our parents died when she was four and I was an infant. She stayed with the circus, and I was adopted. But my adoptive parents were killed during a time of trouble when I was ten, so I eventually found Catherine and went back to the circus."  
  
Quatre leaned forward; he could tell that Trowa did not frequently talk of this, and would have preferred to not talk of it at all. But it was something important, and Trowa (his insides felt sparkly with the knowledge) trusted him. "How long did it take you to find her?" he asked.  
  
Trowa met his gaze directly. "Four years."  
  
Quatre's eyebrows nearly shot off his face. "Four years! But what did you... I mean... ."  
  
Trowa shrugged, his body moving with a ease that made Quatre's mouth dry. "The men who killed my parents _\--_ my adoptive parents, the Bartons _\--_ were fought by other men. Some of them took me in, and took care of me until I could find out where I came from."  
  
Quatre's eyes narrowed; his gut clenched. "But why would they do that? Just take care of you?"  
  
Trowa studied him. "Not for any reasons like what you're thinking." The blond drew back; Trowa seemed to be studying him almost sadly, pityingly, as if Quatre should have had more faith in humanity than to leap to such a conclusion. "They took me in because I was a child alone and homeless, without family; they took me in because too many of them had seen their parents or their children dead. And they took care of me as if I was a son, and taught me to look after myself." There was a wealth of meaning in his simple words; Quatre was suddenly very sure that if need be, Trowa could take care of just about anything.  
  
"So how did you get from there to here?" he asked.  
  
"From mercenary to clown to geology major?" Trowa asked, a bit amused. "My sister wanted me to go to college. As for geology, well, I liked rocks."  
  
He liked rocks.  
  
Quatre thought of the million reasons behind his choice of schools and majors and the billion factors that reinforced him as a business major every day _\--_ and fell in love with a boy who majored in geology because he liked rocks.  
  
"You liked rocks," he repeated, an undoubtedly silly smile tugging at his lips.  
  
Trowa shrugged. "And volcanoes." His mouth curved wickedly. "Though I must admit that I don't think about earthquakes in quite the same way... since I met you."  
  
Quatre's smile got even sillier.  
  
"Though I really do wonder... ." Trowa's voice was low and pulled at the blond, sending heat flashing down in a v along his lower abdomen _\--_ he had a sudden vision of a bright red arrow pointing to his crotch.  
  
"What do you wonder?" he asked, his voice so hoarse as to barely be recognizable.  
  
Trowa's eyes were hot as he raked them over the other boy. "I wonder... ," he said, coming closer, "exactly... ."  
  
Quatre moaned as he felt breath against his neck. "Hmm," he breathed.  
  
"What it is... ." His hands went for the buttons of Quatre's shirt; the blond arched his back.  
  
"Yes?" he prompted, wishing that Trowa's hand would move just a little... bit... down... .   
  
"That Duo writes... ."  
  
"Huh?" Quatre pulled back and gave Trowa a quizzical look.  
  
"In his religion papers."  
  
Blue eyes widened; the blond didn't stop laughing until Trowa kissed the air from his body.  
  
+  
  
Later, after they had satisfied one appetite and worked up another, they dug into the Chinese food that Quatre'd had delivered.  
  
"I've got a ton of sisters," Quatre said, licking his chopsticks clean. "A ton. My father is the second son of a very rich man in a country where having more than one wife is only polite. He had nine daughters with his first three wives _\--_ my father, this is _\--_ and then he met my mother, divorced the first two, and defected to the United States. He runs the American side of the business. Oil, at first, and then he diversified."  
  
"Where do they live?" At Quatre's blank stare, Trowa added, "Your parents."  
  
"Oh," the blond said with a bit of a nervous laugh. "Well. My mother died, giving birth to me. My father maintains residences in New York, Los Angeles, Atlanta, Houston, and Toronto, but I mostly grew up in the Massachusetts house. It's about an hour from Boston. My sisters and I are still in and out all the time."  
  
"You know them? I mean, they didn't stay with their mothers?" Trowa asked.  
  
Quatre shrugged, maneuvering more rice into his mouth. "Janan, my father's first wife, died, and her daughters came to stay with us when I was a baby. Zaynab, his second wife, came and stayed for a while when I was younger, but she remarried when I was five. Ava, his third wife, was American, so she's always been around. We get along well. My sisters have been in and out. There are a few I'm especially close to. Iria's the oldest _\--_ she was almost like my mother. Thao's second oldest _\--_ I've don't know her as well, but she's been very helpful with everything. Then Teddy _\--_ Theodora _\--_ is not quite a year older than I am, and Octavia is only three months older than she is, so the three of us were always quite close. And Paola, and Bianca... but it's Tav and Teddy that I," and he shrugged, faintly embarrassed, "can tell everything to."  
  
He raised his eyes and saw Trowa looking at him with that level glance that seemed to take in and understand everything. "Sisters," the other boy said, "can be good. But," and the he launched off into some convoluted anecdote about one time when it hadn't been so good to have a sister that had Quatre laughing until he hurt.  
  
+  
  
"He's funny?"  
  
Duo stood still in the middle of a path.  
  
"Yup," Quatre said. "Very funny."  
  
"As in ha ha, funny? Makes you laugh, funny? Not like, mime funny?"  
  
"Mimes are funny?"  
  
Duo shrugged. "I've never found them to be so, but then, I've never found them to be scary, either, and supposedly many people do. I'm guessing you don't _\--_ otherwise you never would have gone for one."  
  
"He's not that quiet, either," Quatre said, staring off into space. "He's just a little shy, a little self-conscious about his accent."  
  
"Why? It's sexy as hell."  
  
After delivering a thump to Duo's head, Quatre went back to his favorite pastime of late. Thinking of Trowa. "And he had an unusual upbringing."  
  
Duo snorted. "Hell, I grew up in a fucking church, but you don't see me running around being quiet."  
  
Quatre laughed. "That's an understatement. But Trowa's different. He's... deep."  
  
"And I'm not?"  
  
"If the shoe fits... ."  
  
"It doesn't. I think it's too shallow."  
  
"I was almost ready to forgive you. Then you just had to come out with an absolutely idiotic joke like that... ."  
  
"And now you're completely ready?"  
  
Quatre shot his roommate a gaze out the side of his eyes. "I think that... you know me too well."  
  
Duo didn't let Quatre see the smirk that played across his beautiful features. "Kit-Kat, I know lots of things better than you think I do."  
  
"Shallow waters run deep?"  
  
"And you can drown in a deep green eye."  
  
"Eyes. He does have two."  
  
"Sure he does. Do you suppose there's a name for that?"  
  
"Huh? For what?"  
  
"You know. Like Cyclops-philia?"  
  
"I don't know... . but how 'bout this word? Roomate-a- cide."  
  
"Nah. Sounds too much like a bug spray--ouch!"  
  
"If the shoe fits," Quatre said again, and smirked.  
  
+

  
Trowa fell in beside Quatre as he was leaving class the next morning; Duo, citing unfinished homework, had run ahead, and his bouncing braid was just disappearing over the hill. "So about tomorrow night."  
  
"Tomorrow night?"  
  
"Milly. The play." Trowa shrugged. "You know, one mentioned in the posters all over campus? Sana Kurata's got a big roll, so it's a big deal. It's called The Actor's Nightmare, but she seems really thrilled to have a part. She's the stage manager, but apparently she goes on."  
  
Quatre smiled. "Christopher Durang."  
  
"Who?"  
  
"The playwright. It's an enjoyable play."  
  
"So we're on."  
  
And Quatre realized what he'd just said. "Oh, but I've seen it. You should really go with someone who hasn't. Um, maybe... ." But he wasn't entirely sure of who Trowa's friends were, and trailed off into an uncomfortable silence.  
  
Trowa did nothing to relieve it for a long moment; he just stared at the shorter boy, his face blank.  
  
"I don't want to go with anyone else," he said, finally. "I want to go with you. I want to hold your hand and make out with you in the back row, and exchange smiles with you, faintly embarrassed but not at all regretful, when we lie and tell Milly that her performance was riveting. I want to take you out for ice cream, or coffee, or a fucking glass of water. I don't really care."  
  
He was scared. "You just want people to see you with me, is that it?"  
  
Trowa's lips tightened, his eyes widened with the hit and then narrowed in anger. Most people wouldn't have seen any change in him. "Yeah. That's it. I want people to stare at us. I do love being gawked at. And I want everyone to know that I'm playing more than footsie with the class quarterback. Football president. Whatever the hell you are. As a matter of fact, let's just arrange a play of our own, and fuck with the whole school watching?"  
  
Quatre felt like a layer of liquid ice was separating him from his skin, inside, but he wasn't cold. He didn't know what to say, so he watched the other boy's mouth move.  
  
Trowa made a visible _\--_ to Quatre, at least _\--_ attempt to calm himself down. "I'm sorry," the other boy said, his accent thicker again. "I am. Sorry. Forget the play. Forget it. But I want something from you, Quatre. I want a kiss. In public. Just a little one. Just enough to let me know that you don't want to fuck me raw in private and walk past me every time we meet if someone else is looking. That I'm not your newly immigrated toy."  
  
They had long since stopped dead in the middle of the path; annoyed and curious students were brushing past them. Quatre saw some he knew; there was Utena, and Anthy, and Yuuhi and Shuro, and Duo's favorite professor, Wolfwood, with some extraordinarily attractive blond man. They seemed to be walking a cat.  
  
"One kiss, Quatre."  
  
And there was his friend Maron, who headed towards him but seemed to sense that something was wrong _\--_ she shot them a curious look and walked by.  
  
And he could feel the looks coming, from everyone, as they made their way around the pair on the sidewalk _\--_ the weight of their curiosity made it hard to breathe. Or maybe it was just the look in Trowa's eyes as he stepped a bit closer.  
  
"Just one... kiss."  
  
And Quatre only took time to blurt, "I can't," before running away.  
  
+  
  
After extracting himself from Maron, who he had actually run straight into, Quatre headed back to his room. He was in no mood to be social. He had a feeling, deep and low in his gut, that he'd just done something amazingly stupid. Which is why part of him was actually glad to find Duo there. He took one look at his roommate and slugged the bastard.  
  
Duo put a hand to his bleeding mouth. "What the hell was that for?" He stood, a trifle unsteadily.  
  
Quatre was pacing. "You started this, you bastard."  
  
Duo shrugged. "Yeah, sort of. I think I mostly just... helped it along."  
  
"Well, thank you. Thank you so much. You have helped me right into the biggest fucking mess!" He turned and saw Duo's smile, and went for his stomach this time.  
  
Duo blocked him. "Nope. First one was free... second one I might give you... but no more, Quatre. "What the hell's the problem?"  
  
The blonde gave a strangled scream and sank to the floor. "Why the hell did you do this to me?"  
  
"Assuming for the sake of argument that I did, indeed, do something to you," Duo began, and then shrugged. And smiled. "I just... wanted you to be happy."  
  
"Because I'm happy now," Quatre growled.  
  
"You sure seemed to be happy yesterday," the braided one said, and then, seeing the look on his roommate's face, took a different tack. Pulling out a desk chair, he sat down backwards in it, facing his friend. "Quatre, you've been out on three dates in the year and a half since we got here," Duo said. "Two of those were with me, and one of those was with my friend Yohji, and that was just an attempt to make Ran jealous."  
  
"It worked," Quatre pointed out.  
  
"Did you go on any dates in high school?" Duo asked.  
  
"I went out," Quatre said defensively.  
  
"You took a girl to prom."  
  
"She was a friend," Quatre said. "I had a good time."  
  
"But you're gay," Duo said, and then shook his head at Quatre's automatic withdrawal.  
  
"I never kept it a secret," Quatre defended himself. "I just... my father's conservative. He accepted that I was attracted to men. I chose to not rub it in his face."  
  
"And your father lives how many hours away?" Duo asked.  
  
"And the football team. I'm sure it's weird for them. I don't want to make them uncomfortable."  
  
"Even though they let you on knowing that you were gay? Even though they tease you, rather crudely I might add, in a friendly sort of way?"  
  
"And the student government. It might be off putting to prospective students to come to a school where _\--_ "  
  
"A school known for its liberal politics and homosexual population?"  
  
"Argh! This isn't the point!" Furious, Quatre turned and stared directly at his roommate, who, he noted, was still rubbing his head. He pushed down all worry. "The point is _\--_ "  
  
"Do you know how you look at him?" Duo interrupted, quietly. He was staring at the carpet; he looked exhausted. "Do you know what your eyes are like when you see him? It's like," he searched for the words. "It's like the way my aunt _\--_ the nun _\--_ looked after the Pope blessed her and commended her for her work. Sort of exalted, like she understood things on some level that the rest of us just couldn't get. Sort of peaceful, like she was suddenly assured that the world was going to be all right. And sort of scared, like she didn't know if she was really worthy, really ready to be imbued with the holy spirit."  
  
"Once."  
  
"Huh?"  
  
"One date. I had one date with a boy in high school. We went to a school dance together _\--_ not just because we both knew we were gay and we wanted to live it. To be ourselves, and to be proud of it. Because I was crazy about him." He gave a half smile. "I was crazy about him. He had blue eyes that sparkled and a smile that made you want to either kiss him or worship him."  
  
Duo watched him warily. "And?"  
  
"And a teacher who had offered me support before asked me not to slow dance with him. And friends who hadn't minded having an unattached gay friend started to avoid me. And the guys in the locker room stopped feeling comfortable when I was around. And the administration very gently asked me to not bring a male "friend" as a date to any more school functions. And my father couldn't think of anything beyond hello and goodbye to say to me, and one of my sisters asked me to please never bring my "friends" around her children." He sighed. "And his eyes stopped sparking when he looked at me, and he stopped smiling."  
  
"Quatre, if college and all things after were like high school, half of us would have killed ourselves long ago."  
  
"Huh?"  
  
Duo arched an eyebrow. "You gonna spend the rest of your life introducing Trowa as your roommate? Your good friend?"  
  
"The rest of my life," Quatre repeated softly.  
  
Duo rolled his eyes. "That would be my guess. And the magic eight ball," he said, reaching to grab the thing from his dresser, "confirms."  
  
Quatre nodded. "You're right. I still haven't forgiven you, but you're right."  
  
"I know," Duo said, flipping his braid over his shoulder.  
  
"But he hates me now. He's got to. He thinks I think I'm too good for him _\--_ that I was just using him."  
  
Duo leaned back and bestowed a sage smile upon his roommate. "Quatre... that's what I'm here for."  
  
"Duo... that's what I'm afraid of."


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> by Zillie

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note from Dacia, the archivist: this work was originally archived at [A Little Piece of Gundam Wing](https://fanlore.org/wiki/A_Little_Piece_Of_Gundam_Wing), which closed in 2017. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project after July 2017. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [a little piece of gundam wing collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/alittlepieceofgundamwing/profile).

Most mornings Quatre had to drag Duo out of bed. After jumping on him, pouring large amounts of icy water over him, and screaming threats, he would literally grab the boy and pull. And after a great deal of swearing, a shower, and some coffee, Duo would usually thank him.  
  
But when Quatre rolled over to hit off his alarm the next morning, Duo was already awake, and dressed, his hair slightly damp, his attention completely on the computer in front of him. Which was so absolutely ridiculous that Quatre decided it was a dream, rolled over, and went back to sleep.  
  
He stumbled into a waking state a few minutes later when Duo began shaking him. "Yo, Q, what is this? Role reversal?"  
  
Quatre squinted at him. "You're awake?"  
  
Duo grinned smugly. "He can be taught, you see."  
  
"You sick?"  
  
"No _\--_ I just had a project to do. Now come on. We've got geology before too long. Hurry up!"  
  
Quatre groaned and pulled his blankets over his head. "Don't wanna go."  
  
"Yes, you do," Duo said. "I've been up since six-thirty working on this for you. I deserve to see you do this in return. I can't remember the last time I saw six-thirty."  
  
"Last Friday," Quatre moaned. "We watched the sunrise, remember? After the party?"  
  
"It doesn't count when you catch it on that side," Duo said decisively. "No, no, this morning thing rocks. I might just become a morning person."  
  
Quatre's eyes went wide and horrified. "Now I know you're sick."  
  
Duo whacked him. "Q, haul your cute little ass out of bed and get ready! You might wanna do something about that morning breath before you go try and whisk Prince Charming off his white horse." He thought for a minute. "Or before you try to convince Prince Charming to make you his new white horse."  
  
Quatre blinked, sitting up. "Huh?"  
  
"Y'know. Ride you like a pony and all that."  
  
Quatre groaned again. "And I'm trusting this to you?"  
  
"Yep!" Duo laughed and walked back over to his laptop. "I thought it was crazy of you, but. . . too late now! So get ready!"  
  
+  
  
"I should have just stayed in bed."  
  
"You'll be okay," Duo said, sounding more annoyed than reassuring. He had, however, been saying that for quite some time.  
  
Quatre pouted as they entered the large room and found seats. "This is a stupid idea."  
  
"Hey, it's _my_ idea."  
  
"I rest my case."  
  
"Shut up," Duo said.  
  
"Okay. Will shut up for the whole class."  
  
"Nope," and now the other boy was grinning. "You won't. Or who knows what measures I'll be forced into taking."  
  
Quatre eyed his roommate. "You're quite evil."  
  
"Yep!"  
  
"Bastard," Quatre, murmured, and put his head down on the pitiful excuse for a desk that came attached to the chair. Trowa entered the room.  
  
He felt it, felt the knowledge trickle down his spine, and went stiff. With tension. Against his cloth-covered arms, his eyes were open; "I can't do this," he said softly.  
  
Duo was snickering. "Is this the part where I get to say cheesy things like, you can't not do this?"  
  
"Fuck you," Quatre said, sitting up. He knew he looked like shit _\--_ he felt like shit, tired and stretched out and utterly miserable.  
  
Trowa looked the same way. He was talking with the professor, quietly; Quatre ran his eyes over the other boy, noting the apparent lack of sleep. The apparent distress he had caused the boy he, well, loved.  
  
Duo was watching him with strange, wise eyes. "I envy you," he said, and leaned over to kiss his roommate on the cheek.  
  
And Quatre felt like he'd just learned something important, but he had no idea what it is.  
  
"So who wants to share their answer to the geology question with the class today?" the professor ask.  
  
Trowa's eyes met Quatre's.  
  
"That's your cue, boy," Duo said, and shoved Quatre's arm into the air.  
  
When his name was called, he struggled to his feet. "The question was on strata," the professor reminded him. Quatre looked down at the paper in his hand _\--_ a carefully crafted piece full of sexual innuendo, crafted by Duo. And then looked at Trowa again. "Actually, I have a question. For Trowa."  
  
The prof looked at him curiously, then shrugged. "Okay. Shoot."  
  
"Trowa, I. . . ." The words fell like stone in the quiet room. "Trowa, I want to ask you. . . ."  
  
The green-eyed boy was inscrutable.  
  
Quatre raised his head proudly and spoke. "I wanted to ask you to be my date to the dance tomorrow night," he said. "I wanted to ask you to be with me," he said. "I wanted to ask you if you loved me, too, and if you still thought we might have a chance."  
  
The professor blinked.  
  
Trowa turned and walked towards the door. Quatre felt his heart go weak, and his body go limp. He sat down. Hard.  
  
At the door, Trowa turned and looked back at the wide-eyed room. "What?" he asked. "You didn't think I was going to say yes in front of all these people, did you?"  
  
They watched him walk out.  
  
The silence was broken by Duo's laughter as he shoved Quatre to his feet. "I think you should follow him," he urged, and hooted with laughter. "Wow! Dude, that kind of thing makes the eight- thirty-five classes worth it!"  
  
Quatre grabbed his bag and walked to the door, still a little dazed. As he reached for the handle, he realized that he heard applause; he turned and looked. Sure, there were a few people who avoided his gaze, or looked sullenly back at him, but there were a lot more who were laughing and clapping, or hooting out approval. Like Duo. And, Quatre suddenly realized, even if Duo had been the only one, it wouldn't have mattered. Because that wasn't what it was about. He smiled at the room _\--_ sullen faces and all _\--_ and took a bow. And then he walked out to where Trowa waited for him.   
  
~owari


End file.
